As dawn broke, the storm had left behind a soggy world, but Evelyn’s resolve was as solid as the ancient oak beams of her estate. She spent the night at her daughter’s side, comforting and fortifying her with whispered assurances and quiet strength. Sarah finally drifted into an exhausted sleep, her head resting on the soft pillow of her mother’s unwavering love.
Evelyn moved silently through her home, preparing for the day ahead. The air was charged with purpose, every step echoing the determination that coursed through her veins. Her mind was a chess board, pieces moving swiftly and deliberately, every maneuver calculated to checkmate the hubris of a man who had dared to harm her child.
She left Sarah sleeping, tucked under the warmth of a hand-stitched quilt, and stepped out into the crisp morning air. Her driver was ready, the car gleaming like a sleek predator under the early sun. She settled into the back seat with the grace of a queen preparing for battle.
